Oak Leaves: A Series of Vignettes
by godricshollow
Summary: Fred and George have always been little terrors. This is a bunch of oneshot stories about the twins when they were six, living in the Burrow and causing havoc. Enjoy and please reply!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: You know, there are some fanfics that I think are more in canon than the actual books at times. Is that a bad thing? My apologies to Mrs. Rowling if she in the slightest possibility ever comes across this! Anyway, on with the disclaimer. Nothing related with Harry Potter or the magical world belongs to me. Anything that could be found in any Harry Potter merchandise, books, or movies does not belong to me, either (obviously). That should be good enough for those lawyers, right?

A/N (July 20th, 2005) : I'm trying to revive this fanfiction after quite a long time. I re-read it just a few days ago and still think it's got a fighting chance. PLEASE comment and tell me what you think!

Author's Note (some time in 2003): I began this fic about a year ago and just recently came across it when I was cleaning out the files on my computer. I re-read it and _hated_ it. Now, I've completely revised it and I'm posting this idea as a series of vignettes. Enjoy and please review!

Oak Leaves

Prologue

There he sat, on the grass under the towering oak tree. The tree had been his favorite place to go since he had discovered it in his third year. Four years later, he was still frequenting the same spot. He knew he was not the first person the claim the safe haven as his own, nor would he be the last. The proof was in the dozens of names carved into the trunk behind him, including an conspicuous "Gred & Forge". He had even come across a heart with "Steven" and what looked suspiciously like "Minerva" inside of it. Even more names were scratched into the large beech tree to the left of his oak. The most interesting marking was the prominent "S.B. & L.E.", carved a little way up from the base of the tree. Unlike the other carvings, it had always looked freshly carved. What charm had been used to make it always seem fresh was unknown. George watched as a leaf the color of a ruby floated down on to the surface of the shining lake that stretched before him. The autumn day was crisp and he shivered as an unexpected breeze whipped at his hair and teased the bottom of his worn robes and hand-me-down cloak. The only noise he heard was a little group of second years playing some muggle game a few hundred meters away.

Being alone, he decided, was a nice thing to be at times. It lets a person think and daydream, something that he didn't do nearly enough of at times. His best friend and sidekick, otherwise known as his brother, was in the Gryffindor common room playing an undoubtedly rousing game of Exploding Snap. The person unlucky enough to be playing against him was a fifth year, Neville Longbottom. The winner, most likely not Neville, would get to "play" with Neville's toad, Trevor. Knowing Neville, Trevor was bound to be zooming around the common room shortly after the match with a Dr. Filibuster's No Heat, Wet Start Firecracker in his great, green mouth.

George looked up just in time to watch another leaf drift down and land on the lake, only to float away. He leaned back against the tree's rough trunk as a breeze shook even more leaves from the lofty tree. A particularly bright orange one landed on his knee. He picked it up, and it crumbled in his hand. Looking out over the lake, he could just see a tentacle of the Giant Squid, whom he and his brother had secretly named Elmer, waving at him. Smiling, he closed his eyes and felt another leaf drop nonchalantly onto the top of his head. The leaves and the weather, combined with the distant laughter from the happy second years, sent George spiraling into a simpering, nostalgic fool. Or, at least that's what Fred would have called him if he happened to come along. George was most definitely alone, though, so he continued uninterrupted as he reflected on old, happy memories.

A/N: The vignettes will be much longer than this, and probably more interesting as well. They'll mainly be ideas that I came up with today during my French test. Thanks for reading, please review!


	2. Vignette 1: The Fort

Disclaimer: "I own the entire world of Harry Potter. Everything is mine! How dare others write about my characters as if it were me!" JK Rowling said as she looked at all of the fanfics on the Internet without a disclaimer. Just to make sure that I don't get sued, I don's own anything that she's come up with, unless I write it first... heh heh heh.

A/N: I have a very unhealthy obsession with redheads. I tried to dye my naturally blonde hair a beautiful red about 6 years ago. It ended up the ugly color of a brand new penny. All shiny and brassy and... horrible. Anyway, if you didn't catch it, the prologue was written to be in present time and now our gorgeous, redheaded main character is reminiscing. I really hope that people like this fan fic. I think that I'm going to enjoy writing it!

Oak Leaves

#1: The Fort

"I'm telling mum and you'll get it this time!" a furious Percy Weasley yelled behind him as he scampered across the front yard and up into the house, scattering chickens along the way. His threat was carried by the wind to his identical brothers, who were laughing manically at the moment, rolling around and gasping for breath.

"Fred!" George managed to squeak before gulping in more air. "I – I think we'd better hide!"  
"You're right." His brother agreed with a nod. "Mum'll have our heads for this one!"

The two boys, clad in jeans and long-sleeved shirts, ran across the length of the front yard, disturbing the now irate hens who attempted to peck at their feet. They headed toward the towering oak trees that grew to the left of the Burrow

Fred and George expertly leaped over the little brook that fed into the pond of the Burrow's back yard and leaned against the trunk of a tree as they caught their breath. Over the past three months, since Molly Weasley had begun to allow the 6-year-old twins to explore the Weasley-owned land surrounding the Burrow. Keeping the two rambunctious boys at her side while keeping track of little Ron and Ginny all throughout the previous winter had been difficult enough. Enduring a summer of the same was out of the question. To solve her problem, Molly had equipped the twins with enough supplies to being a fort after making them agree not to abuse any animals or siblings.

The boys now crept towards their ramshackle fort and crawled through the opening and into the fort. With walls and a roof made of branches and covered with leaves, like the Burrow itself, the fort was obviously held up my magic. Their father had come the previous Saturday and enchanted it so that it was light inside, it didn't get too warm, and so that it wouldn't collapse on the little boys.

"We're in trouble, George." Fred said, stating the obvious. There was a quiver in his voice and his bright brown eyes were shining with tears.

"Yeah," George agreed as he peeked out of a little window of their fort, watching the Burrow.

A loud, wailing cry came from within the kitchen, which could have come from none other than Percy. This was followed by a loud crash from the kitchen. Moments later, Molly Weasley appeared in the doorway, hair wild and a wooden spoon clenched in her hand. Behind her was a bespectacled, cowering Percy Weasley, whose hair was tousled and face was tear-streaked.

"He's such a tattle-tale!" George squeaked as he crouched down from the window. Molly shot an angry glare in the direction of the fort before spinning on her heel and slamming the pine-green front door. "We're really in for it now. It's not like we _meant_ for Percy to walk into the gnome trap. He just happened to step onto it. He didn't _have _to chase us. We would've given him his glasses back."

'Mum'll never let us come home!" Fred said with a snivel. "We'll be thrown out of the wizard world and we won't go to 'Ogwards like Bill 'n Charlie and we'll be – " Fred paused as sheer terror overcame him. "We'll have to be _muggles_!" he finished dramatically as he flailed his arms about wildly.

"You're being silly. Mum'll be mad but she won't get rid of us." George said, more as reassurance for himself than for his brother.

"You dunno that. Charlie said that Bill said that Percy had a twin and he wrecked Mum's flowers, so Mum dis_own_eded him!"

"Oh." was all that George said, sitting down onto the hard ground and pulling his knees up to his chest. Both boys were now smudged with dirt and had bits of leaves stuck in their wavy red hair.

Dusk was setting in on Ottery St. Catchpole when little George Weasley awoke with a start. Looking around, he spotted his brother asleep on the floor a few steps away. Confused, George got up and took in his surroundings. He was in their fort, and it was much later than he remembered.  
"Fred!" George said, poking his brother in the side.

"_Orh_m_hu_mp." Fred replied without opening his eyes.

"Fred!" George repeated and shoved his brother, waking him up.

"Ouch! Hey! What d'ya do that for?" Fred whined, rubbing his shoulder.

"Fred, I'm hungry. Why 're we here? Let's go eat."

"Hang on," the two boys were nearly to the front stoop of the Burrow when George stuck out a hand and pulled his brother back by the collar. "We can't go in there!"

"Why not? I smell Mum's sausage!"

"Because Mum _hates_ us, remember?" a wide-eyed George said.

"Do you – do you think she'll feed us before she gets rid of us?"

"Erm, I dunno. If we go in there though, she might put us in the attic with the _ghoul_!"

Taken aback, the boys looked up to the fifth row of windows that belonged to the attic. In their six long years of life, they had never once ventured into the attic. Bill had told them stories about the boy-eating ghoul who lived there.

"What're we going to do?" George asked after a few minutes.

"I dunno. We should go back to the fort though. It's getting really dark now. I've never been outside without Mum or Dad when it was this dark."

The boys stood shivering for a few more minutes, listening to the chatter coming from the open, illuminated windows of the kitchen. Dejectedly, the boys retreated back into their fort, keeping their eyes peeled for the monsters that they imagined were out to get them.

Meanwhile, Molly Weasley was bustling around the small, cozy kitchen in the Burrow. A four-year-old Ron and a three year old Ginny were sitting happily at the worn wooden table, sticking their hands into their own mashed potatoes. Down the table from them was an eight-year-old Percy, freshly clothed and sitting primly in his chair, eating his green peas. Next to him sat his eldest brothers. Bill, who was fourteen, was chatting animatedly to nobody in particular. The normally loud Charlie Weasley was busy reading _Quidditch Through the Ages_ for his fifth time since the two Hogwarts students had arrived home the week before. Instead of being glad to be home after his first year at Hogwarts, Charlie was what could only be considered homesick for the magical castle.

Molly lowered the three plates that had been levitating over her sons with her wand with a small clatter. The drawer to her right slid open noisily and silverware sprang out of it and flew onto the table.

"Erm, Mum?" Bill asked in the middle of his soliloquy about how wonderful all of his classes had been. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Molly said as she scooped blobs of potatoes onto his plate. "Your brothers have gotten on my last nerve."

"Where are they, Mum?" Charlie asked, drawn out of his book by his mother's foul mood.

Molly, looking startled, blinked. She hadn't noticed their absence the entire evening, instead enjoying the peace and quiet. Seeing their mother's shock, Bill and Charlie sprang from the table and headed toward the kitchen door without a glance back. They hurried outside and began searching the back garden for a trace of their impish little brothers. Not finding any trampled plants or small fires in the back garden, they decided to look in the front of the house.

"Fred!" Bill called out into the darkening night. "George!"

"Oi, you midgets, c'mere!" Charlie shouted. "It's dinner time and you're missing Mum's sausage and potatoes."

On a whim, (a/n: which proved correct... amazing how ironic fan fiction is, isn't it) the two teens wandered past the chicken coop, over the brook, and into the meager stretch of oak trees. Behind the tallest oak, Bill and Charlie came upon the twins' little hut of a fort.

"Oi, twerps, are you in there?" Charlie said in a low voice as he hunched over to peek through the makeshift door. Inside were the twins, backed up against each other and sound asleep.

"Bill, look at 'em." Charlie said with a grin. "Quietest I've ever seen 'em."

"Wonder what they did this time, to make Mum so angry." Bill responded as he stooped to enter the fort. His hair swung into his eyes as he bent over and Bill had to brush it out. Molly had been on his case to trim it up to keep it tidy but Bill, wanting to rebel as any normal teenager, had refused, saying that longish hair was "all the rage" at school.

Crouching over, Bill scooped up George and carried him from the fort, dropping him unceremoniously into Charlie's freckled arms. George grunted and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'banana pants' before falling dead asleep again. Fred was carried out of the fort next and the two oldest Weasley boys carried the twins through the now dark night, up to the well-lit Burrow and into the living room, depositing them onto the overstuffed, tartan couch.

"Mum, we found Fred'n'George." Charlie said as he and Bill came back into the kitchen that was now empty, except for their mother at the sink. Molly sighed as he scrubbed the pots and dishes from dinner. A loud squeal and a deep laugh told the boys that Ron, Ginny, and their dad were upstairs in the nursery.

"Why were they out so late, Mum?" Bill asked as he shoved some of his now-cold potatoes into his mouth."

"They were teasing Percy again and when Percy came to tell me, they ran off. Percy threw such a fit that I suppose the twins were afraid that I was going to punish them. And I would have! Poor Percy has had such a bad time with those boys. I don't know why they like to torment him so much. More than that, I don't know why Percy won't stand up to them. He's much bigger and I – "

"Mum?" Charlie asked, cutting her off. He handed her his plate and asked, "What'd the twins do that was so bad?"

"I couldn't get a straight answer from Percy. You know how he can be, exaggerating and such. From what I understood, the twins were trying to feed those dreadful gnomes Percy's shoes, or something of the sort."

Later that evening, once Ginny and Ron had been put to bed, Molly Weasley entered the living room to find her twin sons sound asleep on the sofa. Smiling gently, she bent over to kiss their foreheads in turn.

"I don't know what's gotten into the two of you." She sighed, smoothing down Fred's hair. "I've got a wild couple of years ahead of me, I suppose."

"Molly?" Arthur Weasley whispered, leaning around the corner of the entrance into the living room. Upon seeing his usually frenzied sons silent and immobile, he strolled in, his work robs swishing.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, dear." Arthur replied. Even after sixteen years of marriage, he still got butterflies in his stomach when he saw Molly. It had been like that since their days in Hogwarts. He came up next to her and put an arm around her. With seven children, they hardly had any time with only each other. Sighing, Molly pulled the afghan off of the back of the couch and covered up Fred and George, who squirmed into the warmth. Arthur led her by the arm and set her down in front of the fire. He sat down next to her and holding hands, they stared into the fire.

George, waking for a moment out of hunger, saw his parents and was about to go over to them and demand some dinner, when he decided against it. He had never seen his parents like this before. They were quiet and they looked peaceful, even younger than they were. Quietly, he watched his parents. After a few minutes, he happily drifted off to sleep.

A/N: And so ends the first vignette of 'Oak Leaves'. I hope it's alright! My sister is going to kill me if I don't get to work on my other 'plot bunnies'! Keep an eye out for my Thanksgiving story and my 1983 (John Mayer) songfic. (Yes, I KNOW that England doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving! Geez, Katie!) PLEASE REVIEW! I've only gotten about 10 reviews in my life, so they mean a lot to me.


	3. Vignette 2: The Birthday Crown

Disclaimer: I own… er… nothing of this fic. The people, places, and things all belong to the illustrious JK Rowling. Oh, wait! I own Ginny's dress and Mr. Lovegood's first name. Good on me!

A/N: Wooh! There are a lot of little hidden things in this fanfic, including names and such. It was fun to be able to throw things in randomly. If you find any typos or bad parts, e-mail me about it so that I can fix it up. I've just written this out and posted it in a day, so I didn't have much of a chance to go over it. Sorry about the mix-up of the order. I suppose that this should come before 'The Fort'. You may hit me with a broom handle if you wish.

The bright morning sunshine beamed into the small bedroom and shone right into George Weasley's eyes as he woke. Frowning, he sat up and rubbed his eyes with his chubby little hands. The six year old blinked a few times and looked around. His brother Fred was still sound asleep in his own bed on the other side of their room. Birds were twittering outside of the window. George padded across the worn wooden floor in his gray and patched socks to unlatch one of the windows. Leaning out, he spotted his mother, Molly Weasley, already dressed for the day, red hair pulled back, and she appeared to be smacking a rug with a broom handle. Shocked, George stared open-mouthed at his mother for a moment and wondered why his mother was punishing a rug. What could a rug have done to make his mum hit it so hard?

As realization sunk in, George rushed to the red armchair in the corner while discarding his pajamas. He scurried to pull on one set of the matching clothes that his mother had laid out for himself and for Fred the evening before. He managed to get his freckled arms through the armholes of his blue shirt and zipped his jeans as far as he could. He still wasn't very good with buttons, so he decided to leave the button on his jeans undone. George then seized the doorknob and rushed down the three flights of stairs, passing the room that little Ron and Ginny shared, and his big brother Percy's room before reaching the ground floor. He ran through the warm kitchen and practically crashed into the door to the back garden. Once he wrenched it open, he hurried straight to his mother, soaking his socks in the dewy grass.

"George! What on earth are – "

"Mum! Why are you hitting the carpet? Doesn't it hurt it?" George blurted out before she could finish her sentence. "It isn't the carpet's fault, Mum. Honest. I'm the one who spilled the pumpkin juice on it!"

Molly smiled and set down the broom to pick up her son and hug him. Seeing his mother smile, George smiled back. She set him back down and gazed at him. When Molly started to laugh heartily though, George became confused.

"Mum?"

"George, dear. I'm very glad that you can dress yourself, but you've got to pay more attention sometimes." Molly reached down and helped her son re-arrange his shirt, with George just now realized he had put on backwards in his hurry to save the family rug from the clutches of an unjust punishment.

"Mum?" George's muffled voice came from within the shirt. "Why're you hitting the rug?"

"I'm beating it to get the dust out. But, since you so readily told me who the pumpkin juice-spilling culprit was, why don't you go get the watering can and water my herb garden."

George scampered over to the garden shed and brought the old watering can to his mother who filled it with water from her wand, and George proceeded to go around the back yard, watering the different plants that his mother had been growing all spring. Once he finished and chased a garden gnome until it got upset and tried to bite his ankle, he followed his mother back into the kitchen and sat down to wait for breakfast. While he waited, he watched the massive grandfather clock that was tucked into one of the many nooks and crannies of the kitchen. George always liked to watch the clock, and he made sure to alert his mum whenever one of his family members was on the move. This morning though, the clock wasn't needed to know what was going on with his brothers and little sister.

A loud boom sounded from somewhere above the kitchen. Startled, George looked up and watched the ceiling. He heard a door slam and two pairs of feet begin thumping down the stairs. The noisemakers rushed down toward the kitchen, which was now emitting the delicious smell of bacon, eggs, and fresh muffins, but stopped before George could see anyone. Laughing and shrieks of happiness erupted from the nursery two floors above the kitchen, and Molly tutted as she set a platter of muffins onto the table in front of George. George grabbed one just as Ron darted in and jumped up onto a seat. Ron, who had turned four only a month ago, began stuffing one of Molly's famous blueberry muffins into his little mouth. George swiveled around in his chair and saw Bill and Charlie, his two eldest brothers, walk into the kitchen with a giggling, curly-haired Ginny on Bill's back, followed by a sleepy-looking Fred and a pouting Percy.

"William, Charles, how many times have I told you not to wake up your brothers and sister so early in the morning?" Molly said sternly from the sink, her back to the room.'

"We're sorry, Mum," Bill said as he blanched and plopped a happy Ginny into her chair. "We forgot, I guess."

Molly spun around with a gentle smile on her face and a bowl of bacon in her hand. She ruffled her son's hair and set the bacon down on the table. The dish of eggs flew over from the counter and landed next to the rest of the food. The Weasley children all took seats at the wooden table and ate their breakfast.

After a few moments of silent eating, Percy, ever the eight-year-old intellectual that he believed himself to be, cleared his throat. Every Weasley present stared at him, expecting another boring speech about how Hogwarts, Bill and Charlie's school, should allow in younger students who wanted to have a 'basic understanding of magic before they begin their wizard knowledge career' or something to that extent. That's why all were surprised when Percy grinned and looked at Ginny, who waved her pudgy fingers at him.  
"Ginny," Percy said, "Happy Birthday!"

Immediately, the rest of the Weasley brothers jumped up and surrounded their baby sister, wishing her a happy birthday while their mother looked on with a grin. Percy merely turned back to his breakfast. After the commotion died down, each Weasley finished their breakfast and went back to their rooms to get dressed, except for Molly and George (a/n: remember? He was dressed!). Molly began to clear the table, humming. George turned around to again watch the clock. All of the hands showed pictures of each Weasley. Except for his dad's hand that was pointing at 'Work', the hands were aimed toward 'Home'.

At half-past noon, Arthur Weasley arrived home to find Molly in the kitchen, baking an amazing array of dishes of food. The now three-year-old Ginny was sitting happily at the table wearing a pink party dress and eating a cookie. Arthur came up behind Molly and surprised her with a hug.

"Arthur! You're late!"

"Oh, so is that how I'm greeted these days?" Arthur asked his wife with a wounded look on his freckled face.

Molly, grinning, welcomed Arthur home with a kiss and then blushed when their daughter squealed and clapped from her vantage point a few feet away. Arthur, after being admonished for ruffling Ginny's hair after Molly had spent nearly an hour brushing out all of the knots in it, went to change out of his work robes and into the Molly had already laid out for him. After pulling on his dress robes, which had been patched more times than Arthur would have liked to admit over the years, ran his fingers through his short hair and glanced out of the window that faced the back garden of the Burrow. There, he caught glimpse of all six of his sons laughing and chasing around dozens of gnomes with sticks and having more fun than they could ever have with the expensive toys that muggle children were reported to be demanding these days.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Arthur returned to the kitchen to see if he could help his wife cook or clean; in other words, be in any way useful. After being assured that there was nothing for him to do inside, Arthur went outside to round up the boys and get them changed into nicer clothes.

Strings of fairy lights were all around the Burrow's back garden, which was full of guests. For Ginny's third birthday, the Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had decided to hold a party. The size of the guest list had gotten a little out-of-hand, but everything had gone off without a hitch so far. All of the wizarding families around Ottery St. Catchpole were invited, including the Lovegoods, Fawcetts, and the Diggorys. Also in attendance was much of the Hogwarts staff, some of Bill's friends from school, relatives, Ministry employees, and the odd wizard that was somehow involved with the Weasley family. Everyone had enjoyed the meal that Molly had made and the cake that preceded it.

Ginny, with the help of Ron, Fred, and George, had opened all of her gifts. Her favorite was a muggle doll that Grandpa Weasley had owled over from Cornwall that evening. Nobody could get it away from her without her screaming and crying. On top of her head was a crown of oak leaves that Fred and George had presented her with earlier. They had spent two weeks making it in without their mother knowing, which was quite a feat indeed. At the moment, Ginny was toddling around the garden with her doll, trying to keep up with Ron. Ron, who had obviously had his fill of the delicious cake (it was smeared all over his thin, freckled face), was chasing after his twin brothers.

After careening around Amos Diggery, who was talking with a man the that their dad had earlier called 'Mad-Eye', Fred and George ducked into the house, but Mrs. Lovegood scooped Ron up before he could follow. After having his cheeks wiped down, he was told to take little Luna Lovegood over to play with Ginny. Arthur was chatting with Waldo Lovegood, who had just been promoted to editor of the wizarding magazine, 'The Quibbler'. Molly was talking with and Minerva McGonagall, who had been two years ahead of Molly and Arthur at Hogwarts.

Fred and George emerged from the kitchen clutching shoeboxes. They darted over to the pond and began chasing toads around the bank. Once they had caught a half-dozen frogs and newts, they ran over to Suzie Fawcett, and shoved them in her face. Screaming, she ran off to her mother. The twins giggled and put the creatures back into the shoeboxes and hurried away from the scene of the crime.

Albus Dumbledore, after already being subjected to Percy for half an hour, sat listening to him with his eyes twinkling. Percy had been going on and on about how he wanted to go to Hogwarts and how he had been told that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in the world by his brother Bill. After another ten minutes, Percy excused himself to go and play with his friend Cedric, who had finally quit playing a mini game of Quidditch with Charlie, Bill, and Bill's friends Orsino Thurston and Donaghan Tremlett. They were all in the same year at Hogwarts and had spent most of the night talking about music with Bill.

Once some of the guests began to leave, thanking the Weasleys for a fantastic night, Molly sent her children to bed. After stalling for as long as possible, Fred and George climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and stumbled into their room. Suzie Fawcett, after chasing the boys for nearly an hour, had actually had the nerve to grab Fred and kiss him. It had been utterly disgusting and George swore that he got a case of the cooties just watching it. Fred had cried for fifteen minutes, thinking that he was going to die. George watched his brother climb into his bed and pull his blanket over his head after pausing to kick off his shoes.

Personally, George had had a fantastic night. Ginny had liked the birthday crown that he had put a lot of work into. The boys had gone as far as climbing one of the oak trees to pick just the right leaves. He had had the best of luck with Suzie Fawcett, getting away before she could grab him. Plus, he had gotten to follow on of Bill's friends around for part of the evening. The boy, named Heathcote, had been taking pictures with a camera that belonged to his dad. George's favorite part was when Heathcote would take a picture and engulfing purple smoke would billow out from the camera, making him cough and giggle. As he drifted off to sleep in his bed, George decided to send Errol to Heathcote a letter and ask to see the pictures.

A/N: Erm, sorry if that wasn't long enough for you. I know that technically, Charlie is supposed to be almost eight years older than Percy, but I didn't WANT to! No, actually, I just forgot that the gap was so big. (And so the theories being popping into my head… 'is there a missing Weasley? Why such a big gap?') Anyway. Hope you like this Oak Leaves vignette. And PLEASE check out my other story, 'Home Where it Used to Be'. I'm rather proud of it. I think it's much better than these vignettes.  
REVIEW PLEASE. Thanks for reading!


	4. Vignette 3: Dirty Dishes

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

A/N: It's a short one and I haven't checked it for typos or anything. Sorry about that. I just realized that I hadn't done any fanfiction for a very long time so I sort of scribbled this out last night. Thanks for reading! I might add more later but I'm not sure.

Oak Leaves: Dirty Dishes

"I DON'T WANNA GO!" Shrieked a furious Fred Weasley. His equally angry mother was dragging him down the creaking wooden stairs without any qualms.

"You don't have a choice in this, dear." She replied, her voice quaking a bit. "I promised Mrs. Lovegood that we would pick up Luna and we're already running – "

"I DON'T WANNA GO!" Fred screamed again, not giving his mother a time to finish an explanation of any kind. "I WANT TO STAY HOOOOOME!"

"I refuse to leave you home alone," she replied as he thumped to the foot of the stairs, wailing at the top of his lungs, "because last time I left your brothers in charge I came home to find you trying to feed Scabbers to a garden gnome."

"Mother? Can't you keep the twins quiet?" Percy Weasley whined as he poked his red head around the corner. "I'm trying to teach Scabbers a trick."  
The only attention paid to Percy's request was a loud raspberry from Fred as he was yanked through the kitchen door. The eight-year-old Percy sniffed, pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, and stomped back into the den. A moment later, Charlie Weasley came pounding down the stairs while balancing a stack of plates and glasses. He placed the precarious stack onto the wooden kitchen table and ran back up the stairs. After that, the kitchen was silent and remained so until Molly Weasley came home. Fred Weasley had been dragged across Ottery St. Catchpole and into the Burrow's garden before breaking loose from his mother's grip. A madly giggling Luna Lovegood, who had just turned three a month prior, skipped into the kitchen and up the stairs without a moment's hesitation.

Molly eyed the stack of plates suspiciously; trying to guess which of her sons had produced it. Sighing, she uses a quick scouring charm and then hurried up to the third floor after Luna. She found Luna, along with a rambunctious Ginny, poking what seemed to be a ball of red hair in the corner of Ginny's nursery. Molly froze in fright, thinking the girls had somehow found a kneezle. She rushed forward and pulled the girls back only to find a giggling George curled up on the wooden floor.

"What are you three doing?" Molly asked, smirking.

"Mum," George grinned as he sat up, "Ginny just said my NAME!"

A very puzzled Molly stared back at her son, who was trying to flatten his curly red hair back down. She decided to just leave the three alone to their games instead of trying to figure out her son. After all, Ginny had been saying George's name non-stop since May. You would think that after three months, he would get tired of it.

"Weasley's, I'm home!" Arthur Weasley's cheerful voice echoed through the house as he burst through the front door. He ambled into the abnormally quiet kitchen to find his wife setting a massive plate full of freshly baked cookies onto the table. Thuds and bumps could be heard from the multiple stories above them and a peal of laughter ricocheted down the stairs and filled up the kitchen. Molly kissed her husband on the way to the stairs and only needed to shout the word "cookies" before a stampede of children poured into the kitchen from all directions.

"Evening, Dad" Bill said to his father with a wave before he jammed a cookie into his mouth, grabbed two more, and rushed back up the stairs. The rest of the children followed suit, barely pausing to chew their cookies.

"Busy day?" Arthur asked with a smile as Molly picked up the nearly empty plate and set it by the sink, nodding in reply. That would be the closest thing to a conversation that the two of them would have until after the Weasley children and Luna went to sleep later that night.

A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! Do people even read these?


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